Loose Ends
by 4luv4evr428
Summary: Ricky ties up loose ends while Lucy confides in a friend. This story is set between the events of End of a Love Parts 1 & 2. Thanks again to FF user GeneaLady for her inspiration and beta reading!


I.

Lucy set the dining room table for lunch, wanting it to be as pretty and welcoming as possible. She looked up at the stairs and smiled as she heard soft humming. Ricky descended the stairs slowly. With the transition of the March weather from bitter cold to seasonably warm, Ricky's stamina started to decrease. He was no longer able to fill the house with his voice as before, but anytime Lucy heard any type of music exit his lips, it was a good day.

She turned back to her table, still smiling. "You're certainly in a good mood!"

Ricky embraced her from behind and left a small kiss near her ear. "Well, I have the most beautiful wife in the world!"

As Lucy turned to kiss him, the doorbell rang. She left him with a light kiss before looking behind him and calling out to the visitor. "Come in, Ethel!"

The front door opened and Ethel walked in with a smile. "Hi!"

Lucy and Ricky walked to her, each of them hugging her in greeting. Ethel looked at Ricky warmly. "Oh, Ricky, you're looking well, how are you?"

He shrugged casually. "I'm feelin' pretty good today…Lucy is good medicine." He winked at Lucy, who giggled and swatted at his shoulder playfully.

Ethel laughed. "Are you joining us for lunch?"

"No, no, you girls have a nice afternoon, I'm goin' to New York for lunch with the boys in the band."

"Oh, that's nice! Where's Rick?"

Ricky started putting on a light overcoat. "He's already there…which reminds me, honey, he's gonna come home with me tonight."

Lucy nodded and looked at him worriedly when he coughed a little, trying to suppress it as much as he could in front of Ethel. "Are you sure you'll be alright on the train by yourself?"

Ricky gave her a sideways look as he put on this hat. "Oh, I'll be fine! I been takin' the train for years!" He kissed her and turned to Ethel. "See you later, Ethel."

As he walked out the front door, Ethel put her hand on Lucy's arm. "He'll be fine, Lucy…"

Lucy forced a smile and nodded. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Sure! The table looks lovely, what can I help you with?"

Lucy looked proudly at her table. "Oh, nothing, just sit down and relax. Lunch is ready, it's just sandwiches. I'll get the coffee."

As Lucy disappeared into the kitchen, Ethel took a seat at the table. She picked up a linen napkin and became distracted by her thoughts. It had been three years since Fred had passed away from heart failure. He, too, had declined slowly over time and she couldn't help but draw the comparison to Lucy's situation. Ethel sympathized with how she felt and hoped that she would open up to her over lunch.

Ethel was jolted out of her thoughts by a sudden crash in the kitchen and the sound of a scream followed by cries of despair. She jumped from her chair and rushed into the kitchen, where she was shocked by the sight of Lucy kneeling on the floor, reduced to tearful sobs and surrounded by spilled coffee and shards of glass from the broken decanter.

"Lucy!" She stepped around the glass and knelt down next to Lucy carefully. "Lucy, are you alright? What happened?"

Lucy could hardly breathe between her cries. "Oh…Ethel…I'm sorry!" She started to reach down to the floor to pick up the pieces of broken glass, but Ethel grabbed her wrists to stop her. "No, Lucy, don't. You'll get hurt. Come on, get up…"

Ethel helped her get to her feet, noticing that her dress was stained and soaked with hot coffee. "Oh, my goodness, Lucy, are you burned?"

Lucy looked down at herself and shook her head. "No…no…" New tears burst forth from her eyes again.

Ethel took her gently by the arm. "Come on, honey, let's get you into a clean, dry dress…"

"But this mess…" Lucy protested though her tears, looking at the coffee and glass scattered across the floor.

Ethel led her out of the kitchen. "We'll clean this later, with a broom and a mop. Right now, we need to get you cleaned up."

II.

Ricky watched out the window of the train as the Connecticut countryside gave way to the urban sprawl of New York, thinking to himself that he was glad for the distraction that Ethel would give Lucy this afternoon. He kept so many feelings to himself, not wanting to burden her or add to the deepening sadness that he recognized in her as she watched him worsen. He also tried to keep his conversations with Rick light, knowing that he already felt an enormous responsibility to step into his father's shoes. His thoughts swirled rapidly through his head as the train screeched to a halt at his stop.

When he exited at the station in the city, he walked out to the street and breathed in as deeply as his weakened lungs would allow. Normally, he would've walked to the club from the station, but he knew the walk of a few blocks would tire him prematurely. Anyway, he had a stop to make on the way, one which Lucy didn't know about, and he had time before he was supposed to meet Rick and the boys.

He hailed a cab and gave the driver the address. He watched again out the window as they passed familiar buildings and storefronts that Ricky had known for half his life. His eyes scanned everything as though he were photographing the scenery in his mind.

When the cab stopped in front of Ricky's first destination, he asked the driver to wait. "I won't be long."

Ricky walked into the brownstone building and opened the door to the office of his lawyer, Arnie Bennett. The waiting room was empty of people, with only the young brown-haired secretary sitting at the front desk. She looked up when he entered and smiled warmly. "Can I help you?"

He nodded and approached the desk slowly. "Yes, please, I'm here to see Mr. Bennett. He should be spectin' me, I called him this mornin'."

The secretary picked up the phone on her desk. "Yes, I'll tell him you're here, Mr…"

Ricky looked down. "Tell him it's Ricky." He had taken to avoiding the use of his last name in these situations, not wanting to attract the attentions of anyone who would recognize his famous name.

The secretary spoke quietly into the phone. "Mr. Bennett, a gentleman by the name of Ricky is here to see you." After a moment, she hung up the phone and looked back at Ricky. "You can go right in."

He tipped his hat at her as he passed by, thinking to himself that she looked about the same age as his son and must be new to her job here, as he had never seen her before.

When Ricky entered the lawyer's office, Arnie stood from his chair behind the desk and extended his hand. "Ricky, so good to see you!"

Ricky shook his hand. "You too, Arnie, thanks for seein' me today."

Arnie motioned for Ricky to have a seat. "Oh, it's a pleasure. What can I do for you today?"

Ricky sat down, his hat in his hands, and looked across the desk at Arnie, who had also taken a seat. "Well, remember we spoke about a month ago about my will…"

Arnie nodded and folded his hands on top of the desk. "Yes, I've been meaning to call you to see what you wanted to do. Are there some changes you want to make?"

"No, no, I want everythin' the same as I wrote it a few years ago. But…I wanted to talk to you because I want you to know somethin'."

Arnie tilted his head slightly as Ricky continued.

"I have cancer, Arnie. I'm gettin' treatments, but…I have an idea that I dun't have much time. Now, I trust you, Arnie, so I want to make sure that you help my wife and my son with everythin' that has to be done."

Arnie looked at Ricky in surprise, taken aback by the heavy news that his client and friend had brought him this day. "Ricky, I…I don't know what to say! Except that…of course, I'll make sure to help them with everything they need." He stammered a bit, still processing the information. "Ricky...is there something I can do for you? Anything at all?"

Ricky smiled and looked down. "No, that's all. But you're the first person to know this, besides my family and my doctors. So, please-"

Arnie didn't allow him to finish the thought. "Oh, Ricky, I've been your lawyer for years! What you say to me doesn't leave this office."

The two men chatted a few moments more before Ricky glanced at his watched and stood up to leave, wanting to be on time for lunch. They said their goodbyes and Ricky walked out of the office, past the front desk. He tipped his hat again to the secretary, who smiled at him. "Goodbye, Mr…oh..." She was not used to addressing clients by their first names.

Ricky smirked. "Ricky is fine, Miss…"

The secretary nodded. "Anna."

Ricky walked back out to the waiting cab, rolling his eyes at the thought of the fare he was accruing, and directed the driver on to the club.

III.

Lucy sat at the dining room table, wearing a new outfit and feeling embarrassed of the mess her lunch with Ethel had become.

Ethel came out of the kitchen and leaned a broom against the wall near the door. "The floor is all clean!"

Lucy put her hands in her lap. "Ethel, you didn't have to clean all that by yourself…"

Ethel sat at the table with Lucy and poured two fresh cups of coffee from an old stovetop percolator that she had found in the cupboard. "Don't be silly, I've helped you clean up bigger messes than that!"

A fleeting smile crossed Lucy's face. Ethel became quiet and serious. "Lucy, what's wrong?"

Lucy picked up a petite sandwich from the tray on the table and poked at it nervously. "Oh, nothing, I'm fine!"

Ethel crossed her arms as Lucy avoided eye contact with her. "Now, Lucy, you can't pull the wool over MY eyes. I can see you're not fine."

"Oh, Ethel, you're right. I'm such a mess." Lucy finally looked at Ethel, giving up on any attempt to mask her feelings. "I've been on pins and needles ever since we found out that Ricky is sick. And watching him get worse is killing me."

Ethel leaned forward. "I know…"

Lucy continued, feeling as though she were unloading a great burden. "But he's wonderful, he doesn't complain. He tries to do the things he's always done…and it hurts me so much that he can't always do them. I would give anything for him to be able to sing again. I would never call him a ham again!"

Ethel laughed, prompting Lucy to giggle softly. "Oh, Lucy! Ricky's not a ham!"

The women looked at each other before releasing louder bursts of laughter. Ethel sat back in her chair. "Ok, maybe sometimes!"

Lucy's laughter quieted as she rested her chin in her hand, leaning on the table. "Oh, Ethel, it felt good to laugh…"

"You need to do it more often."

Lucy sighed. "You're right. But it's hard to laugh at anything. I love him so much…no one understands…"

Ethel sat straight up, indignant. "I understand!"

Lucy smiled. "I'm sorry…"

"It was awful watching Fred get sick! You remember. When you live with someone for fifty years, you don't expect them to leave you. You just want them to be around forever. Even if it's Fred."

They laughed again, before Lucy looked at Ethel with a question that she seemed afraid to ask. "Ethel…you can stop me if this is none of my business…but…when Fred was sick, did you…you know…make love at all?"

Ethel raised an eyebrow and smirked, seemingly unfazed by the question. "With Fred?!"

Lucy put a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. "Ethel, I'm serious…"

Ethel took a sip of coffee thoughtfully. "Oh, Lucy, Fred and I made love by fighting with each other, mostly." She took a bite from a sandwich. "But, listen, even though my marriage to Fred wasn't like yours to Ricky …it was still something I missed. I don't think I really appreciated it until it was gone." She looked off at nothing in particular, in thought, before shaking off the feeling. "Why in the world would you wanna know about that?"

Lucy nibbled at her sandwich. "Well, I…was curious…"

Ethel leaned forward, her love of juicy information getting the better of her. "Why?"

"Oh, reel in your antenna, will you?" Lucy sat back in her chair and continued quietly. "I was curious because…" She looked at Ethel, whose mouth was slightly agape with anticipation. "…because Ricky is not able to…you know…anymore. Last month was the last time."

Ethel's eyes widened. "Last month? Wow! Why are you complaining?"

Lucy rolled her eyes and sighed with exasperation. "Oh, Ethel! I'm NOT complaining. I just didn't know what to expect and a month is a long time…for us."

When Ethel saw the sadness in Lucy's eyes, she immediately felt sorry for making light of her question. "I'm sorry, Lucy, I didn't mean to make fun. I always knew your relationship with Ricky was more…interesting. I can imagine that if I someone like me can miss being with someone like Fred…it must be REALLY upsetting for you."

Lucy looked at her hands. "Yes. Yes, it is. In fact…that last time, I started crying afterward…because I knew it would be the last time. He's always been so passionate and…and…so wonderful." When she noticed the wide-eyed expression on Ethel's face, she giggled. "Put your eyes back in your head. He's Cuban, Ethel."

Ethel sat back, staring at Lucy. She'd always known that Latins were passionately romantic and that Ricky was likely no exception, but in all the years they'd been friends, she never dared ask such intimate questions. "And now…he's too sick?"

Lucy nodded slowly. "He's still…very romantic and affectionate…but…some things…he's unable to do."

"Does that upset you?" Ethel's eyes were concerned and Lucy could see she was past her original hunger for gossip.

She shook her head emphatically. "No! No...it makes me sad that I've…started to lose him. One piece of him at a time…"

As temporary silence fell over them, Lucy looked at Ethel seriously. "How is it…after?"

Ethel looked around the room, trying to think of an answer that wouldn't leave Lucy very unhappy. "Sad at first, being alone. But I keep busy. And someone has to be looking after the apartment house, so it gives me something to do…" She brightened. "You're lucky. You have Rick!"

Lucy smiled and nodded. "Yes. We are lucky to have him, he's wonderful. But I have to be fair to him. He has his whole life ahead of him and I want him to be happy." She paused, looking at Ethel intently. "Ethel, you know…we told you before that you didn't have to move back to New York…"

Ethel shook her head. "No, Lucy, I had to, it wasn't right. I wanted to give you three your space as a family. Besides, it was too much for me to go back and forth to the apartment house the way Fred did."

"Well, you need to visit more often…then I'll laugh more often."

Ethel reached over and grasped Lucy's hand. "That, I can handle…"

IV.

The boys in the band chatted and laughed with Rick as they sat over empty plates of eaten food. As they carried on, Ricky and Marco made their way to a quiet corner of the club. As they sat, Ricky's memory flashed back to the night he'd met his wife and they'd managed to move to the corner; it was there that his heart had made up its mind that she would be his.

Marco looked at Ricky, who had only just told him of his illness. "How're you doin', really, boss?"

Ricky looked back at him, a hint of sadness crossing his face. "I'm alright. I miss bein' at the club every day."

"Rick is doin' a good job. He's talented and smart and fair. He's like you."

Ricky looked over at his son and nodded. "I'm afraid I've put him under a lot of pressure."

Marco took a sip from the glass of water he'd carried over with him. "He talks about you like he wants to make you proud, boss."

"He does make me proud. I'm glad someone will be here to take care of Lucy…" Ricky's voice trailed off. He looked back at Marco. "Will you look out for him? You've always been a good friend and I want my son to have someone he can talk to." He viciously fought the tears that started glazing over his eyes.

Marco's face was pained by his friend's plea. He thought back to how he'd arrived to New York from Cuba just after Ricky had, and met him when they both auditioned at what was then The Tropicana. They had gravitated to each other thanks to their musical ability and common background. Marco knew that it was not only out of friendship that Ricky asked him to look after his son; it was cultural, as well. In Cuba, a man's son was his link to the future, assurance that his bloodline would continue and thrive. Underscoring the importance of what Ricky was asking, Marco answered him in their native language. "Entiendo. Voy a mirar hacia fuera para tu hijo. Pero yo se que el te honrara."

Ricky put his hand on Marco's shoulder. "Gracias, amigo." He looked down a moment. "Ay, Marco, it's killin' me to leave Lucy…una viuda…" Ricky struggled to find the English word 'widow.'

Marco shook his head. "You're not leavin' her yet, boss. An' you have a band full of brothers."

Ricky looked over at the boys, still laughing and enjoying each other's company. He understood Marco's reference. In Cuba, when a man died and left a wife, the man's brother would become responsible for making certain that she was protected and cared for.

With Ricky feeling heartened, he and Marco returned to the rest of the band and Rick.

...

Rick waited on the sidewalk as his father made a quick stop across the street. He was glad that Ricky had enjoyed his afternoon so much. It hadn't occurred to him until today just how much the boys in the band were a part of his father's life. And Ricky missed the bustle of rehearsing and creating music with them. It had been a good day.

Rick looked at his watch and looked back across the street. He saw Ricky crossing quickly between the taxis that were stuck in traffic. When Ricky reached him, Rick chuckled. "Dad, I wish you'd have let me do that…"

Ricky looked at his son with a smile, catching his breath from the light jog across the street. "I can still cross a street to buy flowers for your mother on my own…"

Rick smiled as he looked at the baby pink tulips, wrapped in white paper and tied with a pink ribbon, nestled in Ricky's arm. "She's gonna love those."

They walked one more block to the train station, with Rick slowing his stride to stay beside his father. Ricky, meanwhile, was silent as he walked, thinking about how many times he'd be practically running through these streets to get somewhere. He looked over at his son, who was slightly taller than him. He smiled at his youth and strength and his thoughts went back to the night he was born, when he'd sprinted fourteen blocks from the club to the hospital after Fred called him, not wanting to wait for a passing taxi. His mind came back to the present, and he felt pleased that he had come to New York to accomplish all that he wanted.

They made it to the station just as the evening train was boarding, full of commuters heading back to Connecticut for the night. Ricky sat in one of the last remaining seats, with Rick standing nearby holding a pole.

As the train jolted out of the station, Rick looked at his father and his thoughts wandered. He remembered how strong Ricky always was, how much stamina it took to dance and sing simultaneously, something Rick knew firsthand. And he wondered how many more trips like this his father would be able to make to New York, a city that loved the rush and was leaving him behind.

V.

It was evening when Lucy's Rickys arrived back home. Ethel was leaving as they entered, and Rick walked her out to the waiting taxi that she would take to the train station for her own journey back home.

Ricky walked into the front door to see Lucy clearing the dining table. She turned when she heard his footsteps and her eyes fell on the flowers on his arm. She smiled broadly. "Aw, Ricky…what are these for?"

He handed her the bouquet and pointed to the card resting amongst the buds. "I dun't really need a reason. How was your day with Ethel?"

Lucy stuck her fingers into the bouquet carefully, trying not to disturb the flowers, and withdrew the card. "It was nice. She's going to visit us more often."

Ricky took off his coat. "Good! I think you needed a break from me." He laughed softly, but he was only half joking.

Lucy shuddered, her mind screaming that she never wanted to be away from him, ever. "Ricky, don't say that!" She clutched the flowers in her hands as though she were holding his very life, unable and unwilling to let it go.

Ricky walked toward her again, sorry for his comment after seeing the stricken look on her face. He kissed her sweetly before turning to go up the stairs. "I'm sorry, honey, I just meant it's good for you to see her."

Lucy softened and raised the tulips to her nose, enjoying the sweet fragrance as Ricky climbed the stairs slowly. "How was lunch with the boys?"

Ricky paused on the stairs. "Oh, it was good. It was nice to see them." He suddenly looked at her in puzzlement. "Lucy…din't you have a different dress on when I left?"

Lucy's eyes widened. She didn't want him to know how upset she had become after he left. "Oh…yes…I spilled some coffee, so I changed."

He tilted his head slightly. "Are you alright?"

Lucy nodded and Ricky continued up the stairs as Rick walked in through the front door. "Hi, Mom!"

"Hello, darling. How was lunch?"

Rick smiled, understanding the unasked question. "It was a good day, Dad had a good time." He started up the stairs, as well.

Lucy called out to him. "Now, why is everybody going upstairs?"

Rick paused, chuckling. "Well, I don't know about him, but I have some music stuck in my head that I want to write down before I forget it!" He skipped up the stairs, calling to his father.

"Hey, Dad, what're you doing?"

"I'm gonna take a shower," Ricky responded.

Rick leaned over the railing to look down at his mother. "Dad's taking a shower!"

Lucy laughed, turning for the kitchen. "I heard, I heard…"

In the kitchen, Lucy rested the tulips on the counter and reached for a vase. She paused when she noticed the unopened card still in her hand. She set it down for a moment to fill the vase with water and arrange the flowers; she didn't want them to wilt. She carried the vase and the card back out to the dining room, setting the flowers on the table. She walked over to the couch, still clutching the card and hearing the strains of Rick's guitar from upstairs.

As she sat down, she mused that her house was always full of music…but now it was her son's music. Eyes misty at the thought, she finally opened the card.

_My gorgeous redhead,_

_Before lunch today, I heard our son rehearsing with the band. I remember how he used to sit where I sat, watching me. And that got me to thinking about you and all the wonderful years we have had together. Thank you. I love you._

_Your Latin Loverboy_

"Oh, Ricky…" Lucy whispered the words to herself. Hearing the sounds of Rick's guitar, muted by the sound of the running shower, Lucy quietly climbed the stairs. She looked in the direction of Rick's room; she knew how he was when he was writing music. He could be distracted by his own thoughts for hours.

She stepped lightly into the bathroom, hearing the soft humming that had caught her attention earlier that morning. She closed the door behind her and locked it shut, feeling a sound need to rest in her husband's embrace and feel his skin against hers. With near silence, she undressed and left her clothes folded on top of a cabinet.

When Lucy pushed the curtain slightly to the side and stepped in, Ricky was smoothing his hair back under the streaming hot water. He opened his eyes and his heart fluttered with happy surprise to see her, the spray of water falling onto her ivory skin. His face changed suddenly as his gaze fell to a red mark on the inside of her arm. He touched it gently as Lucy followed his gaze to see it herself; she hadn't noticed it earlier.

"Lucy, what's this?" Ricky's fingers traced it softly.

Lucy had wanted to avoid going into detail about her feelings that afternoon, but they were surfacing anyway, thanks to the physical evidence. "That's from the coffee I spilled earlier. I…felt very upset after you left and dropped a whole pot of coffee. It broke all over the floor…"

Ricky's eyes flooded with concern. "Honey, are you alright?" He pulled her closer and raised her arm to his lips, leaving a kiss on the burn. "Why were you upset?"

Lucy touched Ricky's face. "I was worried about you when you left. I'm glad you had a nice afternoon with the boys and I want you to have that…but I'm afraid to let you out of my sight. I'm…afraid I'll never see you again…"

He looked in her eyes and smiled. "Lucy, I'll always be near you."

Lucy smiled. "This is a little selfish, but I love having you here every day…and every night."

"What do you mean? I've always been here every night," Ricky purred.

Lucy giggled. "You know what I mean. You're here before the sun is almost up…and I like it."

She put her arms around his neck. His arms circled her waist and he exhaled as her warm, nude body pressed against his. Their lips met, moistened by the steam surrounding them, and their tongues moved together softly.

Ricky's hands glided with the water along her skin, grazing over the flesh of her breasts and resting on her hips. Lucy's fingers twisted through his thick hair. She kissed his neck and he sighed softly.

"What is it, Ricky?"

He looked at her helplessly. "I wish-"

Lucy put a finger to his lips to stop him from going on. "That isn't why I'm here." She put her arms around him again and he pulled her to himself tightly. They held each other, gracing each other with soft kisses and whispering I love you's until the water began to run cold.

They stepped out of the shower together and Ricky wrapped a towel around himself as Lucy dried herself and dressed quickly. She gave him a kiss and started out of the bathroom, turning back to smile and him. "Time to get dinner ready…"

Ricky laughed softly as she left him and walked back out to the now quiet hallway. She walked down the stairs, through the empty living room and into the kitchen.

Rick was there, leaning against the counter, a carton of orange juice in one hand and a glass in the other. He looked at his mother, her red curls noticeably damp and limp. He smirked as she averted his look and started to remove food from the refrigerator.

"Are you going to be home for dinner, darling?"

Rick bit his lower lip, stifling a laugh. "Not if you'd rather be alone…"

Lucy, who had already begun chopping carrots, put the knife down and looked over at her son. He was grinning like a cat who had swallowed a canary.

She turned back to her carrots. "Go set the table, Enrique."

Rick pulled some plates from the cabinet and pushed the kitchen door open to set the dining room table. "Yes, Mother," he laughed. As he carried the plates out to the table, he smiled to himself. His parents were unlike any of his friends' parents; they always had been. He was glad they were still as in love today as he imagined they were before he had been born. And he was glad that their life still had happiness…at least for now.


End file.
